


Glad You Could Make It...

by JoelMatthews



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 22:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4280091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoelMatthews/pseuds/JoelMatthews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over thirty years ago, when he took them down below...<br/>And TONIGHT HE WALKS AGAIN<br/>So step inside,<br/>ENJOY THE SHOW!</p>
<p>The horrors of the pizzeria should have died when the place burned. It should have STAYED dead. But when an incident occurs... a man goes missing...</p>
<p>Things start to get awry. It's up to the few people who know about the horrors of the place to stop this wound from festering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glad You Could Make It...

**Author's Note:**

> Ladies, gentlemen, or whatever you may call yourself...
> 
> Years and years ago- thirty to forty, an old ghost story began. A man lived. Nobody knew his name, they always referred to him in pseudonym...
> 
> The Purple Man.
> 
> He was killed, long ago, but he never died. He still remains. He always does... and a poor, curious soul stumbled in his path.
> 
> This is the story of that man.
> 
> This is the story of the Purple Man.
> 
> And I'll give you a secret...
> 
> It's Me.
> 
> (And- please, do tell if you want this story to continue. I'd appreciate it, and it'll make the next few additions come a bit faster...)

      A beam of light shone upon what remained of the old horror attraction, the source being a flashlight gripped in the sweaty, pale hand of a young male. Mourning bit at his heart- mourning for what the place could have been.

      It would have been wonderful. People would have walked in, making themselves pee their own pants at the scares and the memories… memories that he shared with them. Now it just smelled like _fire_. Fire and ash, the smoldering remains of what could’ve been screaming out of fear and enjoyment. He sneezed into the crook of his arm, a bit of dust catching it, and let the light guide his way.

      He could see the particles of the burnt attraction in the light. Gently floating, going nowhere. The old arcade machines that never worked and never will again, the Foxy head-

      … The sight of the poor thing made him choke back tears. Old Foxy… he’d really taken a beating in the fire. He really hoped he was right in his prediction of it being just another crappy cosplay…

      His spine straightened up and he looked around, wide eyed. He could’ve sworn he heard something. A footstep? Something finally giving in to ash and collapsing? After a while of not being able to see what changed, he gave up. It was probably in another room, or even in his mind.

      Pushing his nerves aside, he went back to thinking. Seeing the old place like this made him sad, since… well, he was head of the decorating committee. A lot of the reason why this place had such a good atmosphere was because of him. The flickering lights? The Freddy mannequin? All because of him.

      -- There it was again! He stomped his foot in frustration and looked around, trying to follow the sound. It was definitely like a footstep…

      It grew louder and more frequent as he tried to find it, almost as if it was purposefully trying to lull him there… and it was working. Mesmerizing. A low, dull thump.

      … The noise stopped, and he was almost disappointed. He felt like he was just about to find the-

      His flashlight fell upon a mass of collapsed wood in the corner.

       _Source._

      Curiosity got the best of him… and since he was there to salvage whatever he could, it wasn’t against the rules. He set the flashlight down on the table across to illuminate what he was doing, then he stepped back over, the floor creaking under his weight as he slowly approached the pile. He huffed, stretched his arms, and grabbed hold of one of the planks, trying to pry it off. It was heavy, but it moved, smacking the floor and coating the atmosphere thickly in ash.

      He sputtered, coughed, and smacked away the debris cloud, squinting through the black air, sparkling in the flashlight’s ray.

      … A smile stretched across his face. “... Hi, buddy…”

      It was the Spring suit- the Bonnie one. He knelt down next to it, putting his hand gently on the shoulder…

      The contact with the animatronic made him shudder- a piercing shudder, like something metal snapping into place, colliding with his spine… A weird visual image…

      He slowly removed his hand, shaking slightly. The air felt cold and damp now, and the place… felt black and white. All he could hear was his heart thumping. Something wasn’t right here. Something was very wrong. Where did those noises come from?

      But he couldn’t bring himself to get up. It was hypnotic, almost. Besides, he’s always wanted to check out the-

      “ **GngYAHAH!** ” The animatronic hand startled him as it gripped his arm tightly… the eyes staring at him. Those dead, yellowed eyes…

      ‘I have to get out of here. I really have to get out of here.’ That’s all he could think. Then, a haze. Pushing out his old thoughts, like a cloud of mist, hazing his thoughts…

      And a reply. ‘ _You can’t._ ’

      The flashlight fell to the floor and a bad battery flickered it off. In complete darkness, all one could hear was a sharp scream and a thunk on the floor…

 

 


End file.
